Every Flavour Beans
by haveyouseenmyhaggis
Summary: A collection in response to the HPFC.
1. Fighting For The Future

**Author's Note: This is a collection of stories that are all my responses to the forum-wide challenge on HPCF. Go, go Gryffindor! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter._**

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**Title: Fighting For Tomorrow**

**Summary: There are many different emotions sweeping Hogwarts immediately after Voldemort's demise. **

**Author's Note: This is my response to the first challenge. My prompt for Challenge One was: wave. **

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Different emotions swept through Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry immediately after the war ended, like waves on an ocean. Just as no body of water is exactly the same as another, no two emotions matched exactly among the students. Everyone had seen the battle from a different perspective and had suffered different losses. Nobody was untouched, in the same way that no grain of sand can escape the tide when it crashes ashore.

People are milling around the corridors. Harry is overwhelmed by a flood of relief as eyes meet and tentative smiles are shared. They'd succeeded and won. Voldemort is dead and they are finally free. To the Chosen One, it is not relief for his school – it is relief for his family, for that is what his school has become. These are the people that would stand and defend him – just as he would and did for them. He was just so very glad that there were survivors.

The dead lay in the Great Hall, at peace. Walking into the room, Ron is hit with the icy cold blast of sorrow and grief. It is almost like floating in a lonely expanse of ocean, far away from civilisation. Grief is a primal instinct that overwhelms the senses and burns the soul but is entirely natural. Tears were shed for those that were lost and for those left behind.

Despite this, Mrs Weasley is so very, very proud. The feeling consumes her completely and although she is devastated by her loss, she has so much pride in her children for the fight they put up in the name of all that is good. She loves them and she doesn't think there could ever be a prouder mother. She raises her hand and waves slightly to her husband, Arthur, as he walks into the Great Hall looking for her. He smiles slightly in recognition and walks over to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he looks down on his dead son. Even though he is dead, she is still so proud of him. He was so brave.

The hospital is filled with those who didn't die but were injured. Hermione feels helpless as she watches people cry as they wait to be treated. She feels like there is nothing she can do to stem the tide of sorry and pain – particularly from Ron. One of his brothers had lost an ear, a werewolf had savaged another, and Fred had just been murdered, all at the hand of the Death Eaters There was only so much heartache a family could take.

Although they feel completely different emotions, they are united. They fought together and they won together. There had been losses but they had won. Although dread, they are not gone. Those left behind must remember yesterday, but not forget tomorrow, for tomorrow is what they fought for.


	2. Torn

**Author's Note: This is a collection of stories that are all my responses to the forum-wide challenge on HPCF. Go, go Gryffindor! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter._**

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**Title: Torn**

**Summary: Sirius Black wasn't sure whether trying not to be in Slytherin was a good choice until he met James Potter.**

**Author's Note: This is my response to the second challenge! The two characters I decided to use are James Potter and Sirius Black. Both whom are in Gryffindor, my house. **

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There was a lot of pressure on Sirius Black to be in Slytherin when he went to Hogwarts. As he stood on the station, he frowned slightly. In several hours, he would be sorted into his house and his life would change. He would either be a Slytherin, or he wouldn't.

If he was, it would be simple at home. He would be what his family wanted him to be. They wanted him to be in Slytherin simply because it would be in keeping with the family name. They had always been a Slytherin family at Hogwarts – and their views on the world reflected this hugely. The problem was, Sirius did not share these views. Although his family knew he didn't they still expected him to follow them in to Slytherin. It didn't matter to them how they felt about it. It was simply the way things were in the Black family and Sirius hated it.

If he wasn't sorted into Slytherin, life would be very different. His family would be disappointed and he would be "mixing with the wrong sorts" according to his mother. Sirius knew he wanted to be in a different house.

He found himself torn.

He wasn't certain he didn't want to be a Slytherin until he'd met James Potter. Sirius had sat in the compartment alone when the train departed and gazed out of the window as he set off for his new life. After a few minutes the compartment door slid open and a dark, messy haired boy smiled at him. "Can I join you?" He was a handsome boy with sparkling hazel eyes behind thin, circular glasses.

"Sure," Sirius nodded, gesturing to the vacant seats in his compartment.

Gratefully, the boy took a seat and put his feet up on the opposite one, "I'm James Potter."

"Sirius Black," he replied, "You're a first year too?"

"Yup," James nodded. "Can't wait!" After that, the boys spoke about everything from where they'd come from to their favourite Quidditch teams. The journey passed relatively quickly until the food trolley rolled up and a plump little Witch offered them snacks and told them they were nearing their destination so it might be wise to put on their school robes.

After this, the conversation turned to school. "What house do you reckon you'll be in?"

Sirius hesitated before answering, "I come from a family of Slytherins…"

James wrinkled his nose, "Urgh. I'd hate to be sorted into Slytherin! I really hope I'm in Gryffindor." It was then that he realised just how much Slytherins were hated by other people. And Sirius was not one for unpopularity.

Sirius smiled weakly and looked out of the window, "Me too."

Now, as he approached the Sorting Hat, he was very aware that he was doing what he wanted to do, despite the repercussions at home. He was Sirius Black, and he was his own person. He could do what he liked. And although the other boy didn't know it, James Potter had already hugely influenced his decision.

That's why, when the Sorting Hat yelled "GRYFFINDOR!" he felt he'd done the right thing.


	3. Shooting Stars

**Author's Note: This is a collection of stories that are all my responses to the forum-wide challenge on HPCF. Go, go Gryffindor! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter._**

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**Title: Shooting Star**

**Summary: Ginny's thoughts one night during DH. **

**Author's Note: This is my response to the third challenge! I'm a Gryffindor and I've decided to use set one. This was a fantastic challenge and I just want to say a massive thank you to the judges! You're doing a fab job here! I'm really enjoying this!**

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Ginny Weasley knew that being in love with Harry was, at times, going to feel like she was climbing a steep uphill slope. She knew, but she didn't care. She loved Harry with all her heart and she was prepared to do whatever she had to do for him. She would fight, she would risk her life, and she would even _die _for him. Harry meant the world to her. At the moment, she had no idea where he was, and she missed him. She would be strong though. She always was. She was, after all, a Weasley.

As she sat on the window ledge of her dormitory in the middle of the night, she surveyed the scene outside, focussing on every single aspect of it, one at a time; the dark depths of the forest, the shimmering stretch of the lake, the grass being blown lightly by the gentle breeze of the night… Inspired by the beauty of it, she smiled. This was the Hogwarts she loved, despite the Death Eaters that she knew were lurking down there somewhere.

She looked to the sky, at the pale orb of the moon. She scanned the deep blue for the twinkle of stars, and hoped to see one streak across the sky… A shooting star she could make a wish upon.

After a while, nothing happened. She was stupid to think it would. Wishing on shooting stars was something people did in fairy tales and the world she was living in was far from a fairy tale.

She picked up the little wooden box that was sitting beside her and opened it slowly. Inside were several letters written on scrolls of parchment.

She had written them whenever she felt that something was missing in her life, or more, some_one _was missing. The letters were all addressed to Harry. None of them had been sent though. She didn't want to give away Harry's location by sending an owl – wherever he was. She picked one up and smiled slightly as she read through it.

_Dear Harry._

_I'm missing you so much, even if I won't admit that to anyone else. It's dangerous to admit weakness here now. Still, I'm getting by. You won't believe how terrible it is here. I'm not letting them get the better of me though. I'm going to fight them with all I've got. It's kinda like dancing, you see. _

_I guess it's like some sort of dance battle. They make their move, and I make mine in response. It's as though magic is the music and like we would both have different interpretations of the music, we see magic different ways too. They use it for evil. Me? I just want to stand up for good. It just seems sometimes like I'm taking one step forward and two steps back. I don't seem to be going very far. But I'm trying. Honest to Merlin I'm trying, Harry. _

_And I'm fighting for you by the way. I'm doing this for you, and for the good people in the Wizarding world. _

_Anyway… I wish I could kiss you right now. I miss you. I love you. Good luck, Harry, wherever you are and whatever you're doing right now. I know you'll succeed in the end. I know you will. _

_Love,_

_Ginny xxx_

Ginny took a deep breath and shut her eyes. She rested her head against the wall behind her and tried to fight off the intense feeling of loneliness that had overwhelmed her. She wasn't weak, but even the strongest of characters wished for a hug every now and then.

Opening her eyes, she took a last look outside. Everything was still and silent. If she didn't know better, she'd have wondered what had had changed since last year at school. But she _did _know better.

Just as she was about to go back to bed, she saw, miraculously, a gleam of light streaking across the night sky. Ginny's automatic reaction was to assume someone had sent a curse into the air for some reason or another but when she couldn't see anyone on the ground, she suddenly realised it was in fact a shooting star. She nearly giggled with surprise and joy but held back.

"I wish…" she began before hesitating and thinking a little more. "I wish for the strength to keep fighting." She smiled. That's all she wanted. She couldn't ask for Harry back. He had a job to do and she couldn't be selfish. She just needed the strength to carry on without him and to show the Death Eaters that she wasn't going down easily.

With that, she jumped from the window ledge and crept to her bed, trying not to disturb her sleeping classmates. She clambered in to her four-poster and buried herself under the covers. Tomorrow was another day to fight. Maybe _tomorrow_ would be the day she gained some ground.

One thing was certain though: she wouldn't give up. She was a Weasley after all.


	4. Mentor

**Author's Note: This is a collection of stories that are all my responses to the forum-wide challenge on HPCF. Go, go Gryffindor! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter._**

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**Title: Mentor**

**Summary: Tonks feels lost after the death of her cousin, Mad-Eye is there to comfort her. **

**Author's Note: This is my response to the fourthchallenge! I'm a Gryffindor, which is totally awesome. My given character for this was Nymphadora Tonks, and the character I chose was Mad-Eye Moody, whose House is unknown. I had so many ideas for other characters, all of whom happened to be in Gryffindor. Sigh. But yeah, this was a real challenge and I kinda loved doing it. It was nice to have to think a little since not being at school means my brain melts into useless mush. Anyways, enjoy!**

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_"Never show weakness, Nymphadora!" Moody had told her on her first day of training. She stood in front of him and she was excited – terrified at the same time, but excited. Moody was to be her mentor and he was one of the most renowned Aurors of all time. She certainly had got off lucky here. She promised herself she'd listen to every word and remember it. The older man carried on, "_Never _let anyone who may use it against you see you upset. A good opponent knows how to get to his rival – he knows exactly which buttons to push. Do _not _let yourself be put in that position. Ever."_

Yet here she was several years on, sat alone on the cold stairs, her head resting against the wall beside her. A stray tear trickled down her rosy cheeks, leaving a glistening trail. She didn't bother to wipe it away, for she knew that as soon as she did, another would follow. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. She _knew _she'd been told to keep strong, but she couldn't keep her pain to herself any longer.

"Constant vigilance," came the low, familiar growl from behind her. She started slightly and turned around. Mad-Eye Moody was limping down the steps towards her and awkwardly he took a seat. "Keep strong. Sirius would have wanted that, Nymphadora."

"Tonks," she corrected automatically with a faint smile. "And I know he would have wanted that… I just. Feel like I should have been more prepared." She looked at the older man, curious as to what he would say to this. Her heart skipped a beat as she suddenly realised he might agree with her. She was suddenly terrified he would be disappointed in her.

But he wasn't. "Nobody could have done anything," he told her curtly. He trapped her gaze in his – even his magical eye was trained onto her. "Nothing would have made a difference short of stopping him going." He took her shoulders tightly in his hands and smiled almost reassuringly. "You do not have time to blame yourself. You must keep fighting regardless. Looking over your shoulder is necessary on occasion, but facing backwards is useless."

This was not the first time she had been told this by Alastor Moody. It was a tough lesson to learn but a valuable one. _"You can never stop for a dead man," he had explained to her, pronouncing every syllable clearly so she could hear. "A dead man will weigh you down, hold you back. In a battle, you cannot afford to delay. The split seconds you stop to collect him could be the death of you too. You can go back later. It is not your fault he is dead. You do not have time to blame yourself…"_

She breathed slowly, trying to keep calm. "But… I should have been more… Y'know, vigilant."

He smiled again, sympathetic. "Sirius was a good wizard. There was nothing you could have done to stop what happened. None of us expected it. But what has happened has happened. We cannot stop the fight because of it."

Suddenly, sobs overwhelmed her and Moody pulled her closer, holding her tightly while she cried for her lost cousin, cried for fear of what was to come, cried out of guilt at what had happened…

For a long while, she simply sobbed, and he simply held her. Nothing more was needed in that moment.

Alastor Moody was not used to being a figure looked too for comfort, but he could not deny that he was flattered. He cared very deeply about Tonks, he truly did. It hurt to see her this upset. He was upset by Sirius's death too, but it was nothing to how she was feeling.

After what must have been half an hour, the sobs finally stopped and she simply looked up at him helplessly with a small apologetic smile on her face. "Mad-Eye-," she began but he cut her off quickly by taking her wet cheeks in his hands and wiping away the last of the tears with his thumbs. He shook his head slightly and smiled gently. "You are a brilliant Auror. Sirius would be proud. You have to keep fighting." He meant it, too. He rarely said things like that and it felt slightly awkward, but he meant it.

Then, he leaned forward slowly and his lips brushed against hers. She blinked, her eyes suddenly wide and startled. She didn't protest though. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. She really felt like he cared about her. As he kissed her, she felt her heart leaping in her chest; was this love? Did she _love _Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody? She didn't know and at the moment she was in no state to think about it. All she cared about in this moment was the lust that consumed them both like fire. Perhaps it was not so much lust, just desperation.

Tonight, she needed him. He was her mentor; the person who offered guidance and advice. It was his job to support her as she learned. He had explained the world to her before in her training as it was job, but being here to catch it when it came crumbling down around her was entirely his choice. And she was grateful. She needed him - she knew that now.


	5. Killing Me

**Author's Note: This is a collection of stories that are all my responses to the forum-wide challenge on HPCF. Go, go Gryffindor! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter._**

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**Title: Killing Me**

**Summary: Draco's thought's in the sixth book, when Harry performs the "Sectumsempra" curse on him. **

**Author's Note: Firstly, I would like to sincerly thank the judges for allowing me the extension. I really did need it this week. Thank you so much! And you guys totally rock for all your hard work with this challenge - I've loved every minute of it. **

**For this challenge, I chose to use part a. with Malfoy, a Slytherin. Im a Gryffindor. :) The song I used is Paramore's "Never Let This Go". Enjoy!**

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_Maybe if my heart stops beating _  
_It won't hurt this much _  
_And never will I have to answer _  
_Again to anyone_

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Potter yells from the floor where he'd slipped on a pool of water. My own curse is cut off and I drop my wand as I stagger backwards. I grasp desperately for something to hold on to but I can't find anything. I fall to the floor into a pool of water from the smashed cistern. I'm bleeding. A lot. Blood is gushing down my face – I can taste it on my lips.

It's suddenly hard to breathe and I can dimly see the water turning red with my blood. I claw at my chest, trying to stop the pain, trying to stop whatever is obstructing my breathing. My efforts are futile. I can feel the blood gushing out of my body.

Then I realise it's killing me.

I wait for the terror and the panic.

What surprises me next is that I am not afraid. I'm almost glad of the chance to escape everything that's going on here. Soon I'll be free from all this pressure. I'd rather die now than be executed by the Dark Lord, a disappointment to my father. If I died that way, it would be because I had failed. This way, they'll never know if I could have carried out the deed. My parents can carry on in the belief that perhaps I would have succeeded.

As I bleed all over the bathroom, Potter stands looking at me blabbering stupidly about how he didn't mean to do this. "No – I didn't!" he protests, falling to his knees beside me looking utterly helpless. I hate that I'm dying at the hands of the boy I've despised for so long. It's revolting and I hate it. But still, death is release and that's what I need.

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!" Moaning Myrtle yells. What? I'm not dead yet. I'm shaking and my vision is starting to blur but I'm not gone yet. I wish death was quicker and less painful. At least I'm not being tortured to insanity first – the Dark Lord likes to play with his food. I've seen him kill before and I don't doubt he'd make my death excruciating. I'm better off going this way.

Then Snape comes in. He's going to save me. I know he will, but I don't particularly want him to. I can't protest because I'm simply too weak and too badly injured. I'm losing blood too quickly but in the Wizarding world, you can save a person in seconds. Usually, I'm all for that but strangely when it's me concerned, I don't really want to be saved.

The Potions Master pushes Potter aside and pulls out his wand. He mutters an incantation that I can only just hear and I feel a strange warmth. No, no, no, let me go! Despite my silent protests, I feel my breath coming easier now. I open my eyes and see the hook-nosed face of my teacher above me, carrying on with his spell.

"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that…" Snape tells me as he pulls me to my feet. I want to collapse on the ground but he doesn't let me. Annoyed, I stumble along with him.

"You should have let me die," I snarl, using what little energy I have left.

For a moment Snape doesn't reply to me and I feel slightly smug for having left him lost for words. Maybe he agrees with me? Then eventually as we approach the hospital wing, he says to me, "I could not allow that, Draco. You have a future. And you are not alone in your mission."

But I am. I know I am. And I'm so, so scared. Snape thinks he can help me, but this is my task and I must do it alone. The Dark Lord wants that, I know. I have to listen to him, and I have to do what he says…

Dying would have been easy. Living, knowing I'm going to die because of my own failure? Not so much.


	6. Going Down Fighting

**Author's Note: This is a collection of stories that are all my responses to the forum-wide challenge on HPCF. Go, go Gryffindor! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter._**

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**Title: Going Down Fighting **

**Summary: Susan Bones at the moment she found out about her aunt's murder.**

**Author's Note: A huge thank you to the judges for the extension. I really needed it this week. School gets in my way a little sometimes. As for this fic, I'm not really that proud of it but I had to hurry things a bit because I'm so busy but I really wanted to write something. I did like this challenge though, it was great! Nice work from the judges! I hope you like my fic!**

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"Susan? Susan, come here, pet," came mum's voice from downstairs. I immediately knew something was wrong. Something in her voice told me something had happened and my heart started racing. I closed the book I'd been half-reading, stalling slightly. I didn't want to know what had happened. I was happier not knowing. It could have been anything, but I was certain it was big.

Getting to my feet, I headed towards the door. I was terrified and I wanted to run. I walked down the stairs and into the sitting room. Mum was sitting on the sofa by the fire, staring into it, looking lost. "Mum?" I probed, anxiously.

"Sit down," she told me.

I did as I was told, sitting next to her, watching her nervously, "Is… Is everything okay, Mum?"

"Not really, no," she replied slowly, turning to look at me. She took my hands in hers and I could feel her shaking slightly. Looking into her eyes, I could see she was on the brink of tears. That scared me to start with. I hate seeing my parents cry. There's something fundamentally wrong with seeing someone like your mum cry. If it's enough to drive them to tears, what's it going to do to me? I bit my lip for a moment and waited for her to say something more.

She didn't. She kept taking deep breaths, as though trying to tell me but never quite succeeding.

"What is it?" I asked, not really wanting to know. "Tell me, Mum." I can tell already that we've lost someone. My mind rockets through everyone I know, wondering who it might be, terrified: Dad, my cousins, my friends, my grandmother… I'd already lost family to the Dark Arts. Not again, please not again.

"Your Aunt Amelia…" Mum said and then she broke off, looking helpless. Tears started to course down her face.

No. Just… no. Why? _Why? _Mum didn't need to say anything else. I knew what had happened. My aunt was dead. Gone. Murdered, probably. By You Know Who, no doubt.

"She's…" I whisper, but the words stick in my throat.

"She's gone, Susan," Mum tells me, suddenly pulling me into a tight hug. My heart aches and my throat hurts with the effort of not screaming. My eyes burn and I think I'm going to cry.

But you know what? I'm not going to. She won't have died in vain. I'm going to fight. I'm going to fight until either what is good triumphs, or I die. I don't want to live in a world run by the dark arts anyway.

I'm going down fighting.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: This is a collection of stories that are all my responses to the forum-wide challenge on HPCF. Go, go Gryffindor! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter._**

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**Title: Maybe**

**Summary: Ginny/Harry**

**Author's Note: A huge thank you to the judges for the extension. again. Again, this isnt my best work but I wanted to submit something. I was given Ginny/Draco and I tried to break Ginny/Harry. This is set during sixth year, after Harry and Ginny get together. **

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"Hi Draco," Ginny waves slightly as she walks passed him in the corridor at school. He simply smiles at her before heading into his potions class but she can see the sadness in his eyes. At the beginning of the year, she wouldn't have cared. But now? Now she does.

Harry frowns at her as they walk along the corridor hand in hand, "Why'd you say hello to him?" he wants to know, annoyed.

"No real reason," she shrugs nonchalantly, "It's just… I figured if I get to know him, then I'll be able to figure out what he's up to."

Harry doesn't need to know she's lying.

She has been able to tell for some time now that he is pretending to be the same boy he was a few years ago. In truth, he isn't. He's a scared, lost child and she can see that. What's more, she wants to help him.

She and her friends are not the only victims in this war. The people who are considered close to Voldemort are victims in their own right. That's why, last night, she found herself talking to the Slytherin in the library when he'd thrown a textbook off the desk in frustration and anger.

She'd seen how helpless he was. She'd seen how afraid he was. He'd even admitted to being more than a little lost. She saw something in him that she saw in Harry all the time: uncertainty about the future. Maybe the two boys weren't so different after all?

Maybe that's why she'd hugged him when they stood outside the library. Maybe that's why he'd smiled a little before they went their separate ways.

Maybe that's why she knows it wont be the last time she sees him.


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